Light and Shade
by coldfusion9797
Summary: After a chance encounter, Jimmy feels a surprising need to comfort Lady Mary in her grief. AU from 3.09. Mary/Jimmy
1. Chapter 1

It was Jimmy's day off. He had no real plans for the day apart from enjoying his freedom and solitude. Life at Downton Abbey was somber these days and he was glad to be away from the gloomy atmosphere for a little while. He wandered aimlessly, pleased not to be on a schedule. The morning was cold but clear, promising to be a fine day. After a time, his feet led him to the cemetery, it was peaceful here. Everyone arranged in their neat little rows, families together. The way his own family never would be. His father had died in the war and been buried on the front, and his mother was buried back home, she'd died of the flu but really it was a broken heart that had killed her.

The last time he'd been in this particular cemetery had been a few months ago for Mr. Crawley's funeral, Carson had insisted they all attend. He glanced across to the spot now, where they'd buried Mr. Crawley. He expected to see a fresh mound of dirt, covered in the bright flowers of the newly dead. And he did, but that was not all he saw. A small figure sat at the foot of the grave, huddled in a thin, white dress. It seemed a strange place for an urchin to be. Jimmy was about to leave when the person turned slightly and he recognised her face. It was Lady Mary.

Should he approach her? Should he walk away and pretend he'd never seen her? His first thought was to leave her, it was none of his business, and he was just a servant anyway. He turned to leave but there was something broken about her, her posture, her clothes, and as much as wanted to, he couldn't just leave her. He approached her quietly, not wanting to startle her.

"Lady Mary?" he said gently to let her know he was here. She made no sign that she heard him. "Lady Mary?" he tried again, taking a liberty and resting his hand on her shoulder for a moment. It wasn't something he was allowed to do, or would normally want to do, but in that moment she seemed so fragile, and so utterly human that he forgot for a moment, their situations in society. To comfort a grieving woman was his only thought. She turned and looked up at him, a strange far-away look in her eyes.

"Oh...James," she said after a long hesitation, seemingly struggling to remember his name. And now that he had the opportunity to really look at her he saw that she was not upset like he'd assumed she would be, but she had a serene almost dreamy expression on her face. "Won't you sit with Matthew and I a moment?" Lady Mary reached her trembling hand up towards him and offered him a tiny smile that didn't reach her eyes. It was a strange thing to ask, but more disconcerting, was the way she asked it. As though both herself and Mr. Crawley were extending the invitation. Looking at her outstretched hand, Jimmy was struck by the way her wrist bones protruded, making her look terribly frail. Her skin was stretched and pale, she reminded him of a china doll, so easily broken without the correct care. But beautiful too. All the more so for its fragility.

"Alright," he consented, not really comfortable with it but frightened of what she might do if he refused. He settled himself on the damp ground next to her and watched her as she made small rearrangements to the flowers on her husband's grave. She seemed content here, and though he didn't want to suggest it his sense of duty prevailed. "Maybe we should go back to the house." Apart from the impropriety of what she was wearing, or not wearing, it was much too cold for the way she was dressed.

"No. We like it outside," she said, "don't you James? It makes us feel alive." He had to agree with that, but he didn't get the chance to speak.

"Mary!" Jimmy turned towards the direction of the call. Lord Grantham himself was striding towards them. "Thank heavens you're safe," he said as he wrapped his coat around her, and then he'd whisked her away.


	2. Chapter 2

Jimmy didn't care about other people. It wasn't that he wished them harm, it was just that knowing others were faring well wasn't vital to his being like it was to some. His detatchment could be misconstrued as unfeeling but that wasn't the case, it was more like an aversion to boredom. There were a select few that he appreciated the company of but generally he drifted through the world doing what he had to, largely immune to the comings and goings of those around him. Recently however, that had changed.

Jimmy found he could not stop thinking about Lady Mary. It was a baffling fixation. The picture of her by her husband's grave played constantly on his mind. The haunted look in her eyes, the way her flimsy gown clung to her thin frame, the way her hand had trembled when she'd reached for him. He was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"Mr. Carson, might I have a word?"

"If you make it quick James."

"I was wondering how Lady Mary got on? She was very troubled when I found her."

"She's perfectly alright James," Carson said assuredly, "apart from the obvious grief of course." Carson concluded with a finality in his tone that Jimmy knew meant he was to ask no further questions.

"Of course," Jimmy assented with a nod. He knew he'd get no more information from Carson on the subject, leaving him no option but to gather information in other ways.

xxx

He knew it was not his place to ask questions of his master but the need to know overcame Jimmy's sense of propriety. Lady Mary had been absent from dinner again tonight. That had disappointed him, haunted as he was by the dream-like vision of her; he had to know if the memory was his imagination running away with him, or if the shadow of loss had indeed turned her into that waif-like specter.

"My Lord, might I speak to you for a moment?"

"Of course James," His Lordship consented, but there was a look in his eye that said Jimmy had best be careful about how he proceeded. Jimmy pushed on despite it, overwhelmed by his concern for the grief-stricken widow.

"Is Lady Mary well?" A pained look crossed the Earl's face but he reined it in, the way those of high breeding are wont to do.

"You needn't concern yourself with Lady Mary's welfare James, she's perfectly alright." His Lordship was the second person to tell him that today, but still Jimmy found it difficult to believe.

"My Lord," he nodded in acceptance, understanding nothing more was to be said.

Perhaps His Lordship was right. It really was no concern of Jimmy's. Lady Mary had more than enough capable people surrounding her. They would tend to her needs better than he ever could. He didn't even know why it should bother him so; unsettlingly, he just knew that it did.

xxx

After dinner Jimmy followed Thomas outside, as was their usual routine. It was strange really how quickly they'd become friends once Jimmy had decided they could. It was hard to imagine they'd been anything but friends now. Thomas lit a cigarette and offered it to Jimmy. He took it, hoping it would take the edge off his unease of late. Jimmy took a long drag as Thomas lit another for himself. Thomas blew out a twirling cloud of smoke as he stashed his matches away in his pocket. Jimmy took another long drag and Thomas fixed him with a curious look.

"What's the matter with you then?"

"Nothing," Jimmy replied, exhaling a puff of smoke. This wasn't something he could talk to anyone about, not even Thomas.

"If you say so," Thomas said, but he didn't look convinced. That made two of them.


	3. Chapter 3

Jimmy had seen it before. A woman stricken by a broken heart. Once warm eyes were now cold and distant. Did she blame him? But there was so much blood. So much blood and no way to stop it. What could he have done? Everyone was dying, why should this be different? Jimmy rubbed the shiny surface harder, wanting to polish the memories away. But the blood just kept coming; he hadn't even known people had that much blood. He was losing this battle, another one, but this one was perhaps the most important he'd ever fought. No matter how hard he rubbed the tarnish wouldn't budge. He scrubbed the spot until his arm ached and his fingers were raw. A red stain appeared on his cotton glove and he dropped the platter in horror. It clattered to the floor. In his mind bombs whistled and chunks of earth flew into the air. Before his eyes a silver platter lay innocuously on the floor.

"James?" a soft voice ventured, "Jimmy?" The hem of a skirt came into view and he raised his eyes to see Anna watching him, soft concern in her kind eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said automatically, stooping to scoop the silverware up off the floor, "I'll start again."

"No Jimmy, that's alright. Leave it for a moment." She couldn't be serious, nothing was more important that making sure the silver sparkled. Carson had to be able to see his reflection in it. Though why he'd want to Jimmy didn't confess to know. She attempted to take the plate from him but he clung to it.

"I really should finish this."

"You're sure you're alright?" the maid insisted. He was, or would be, if he could get answers. Suddenly, Jimmy was struck by the thought that Anna was Lady Mary's maid. Why hadn't it occurred to him before?

"Anna?"  
>"Yes?"<p>

"Will you tell me about Lady Mary? It's just that she was so..." What word could he use? He wanted to say disturbed, or unstable, but knew Anna wouldn't appreciate that, "...unlike herself the other day. Is she well?" Anna hesitated. Jimmy couldn't be told no again. "Please?" Something passed between them. Maybe it was that Anna saw the sincerity with which he asked the question. She sighed.

"It's hard for her Jimmy, there's no denying that. But Lady Mary's a fighter. She's strong, I know she'll make it through this." That was wishful thinking and told Jimmy nothing.

"But now? How is she now?"

"Sad, that's all. She's just so very sad."

xxx

"Would you like me to help you dress for dinner Lady Mary?" Anna asked the same question every night. Lady Mary's declining to attend was understandable at first but people were starting to notice something was wrong. If someone like Jimmy was asking questions, the situation was certainly due to be remedied.

"No Anna, I think I'll take my meal up here tonight." Lady Mary made it sound like she'd made a decision, but she hadn't. Always, it was the same answer she gave. Anna sympathised, she really did, but Lady Mary's life was not her own. She was the eldest daughter of an Earl and duty would always call.

"I think Mi'lady, it might do you good to sit with the family," Anna ventured. "I know your parents would like to see you there." Mary turned slowly towards her, her hand rising to touch her throat. She focused her gaze on Anna, looking steadily at her, which was something she hadn't done of late.

"Have they said something?"

"No, but I know they'd like to know that you're..." Improving? Recovering? Those words were too cold, too presumptuous, "...well." It still wasn't the right word, but Anna was at a loss. She had no idea how to pull Lady Mary out of her despair. Her mistress had always been so strong and so sure of herself; this new side of Lady Mary was a mystery to her. Lady Mary's shoulders slumped and she raised a hand to her forehead.

"Very well," she sighed, "find me a dress."

xxx

The conversation bounced around Mary, but none of it sunk in. It was all just noise. What could they say that would matter now? But one thing she couldn't stand was being fussed over so she made a small effort to nod and smile when the conversation seemed to require her to do so. As the conversation ebbed and flowed around her, she longed for Matthew. She could picture him now, with his bright blue eyes and secret smile, sitting in his place at the table, as clearly as though he were there. She reached across and placed her hand on his.

"Did you have a good day dear?"

"Yes, thank-you Mary dear," he mother replied from beside her. Mary quickly pulled her hand away. Didn't her mother usually sit nearer her father? Had they forgotten already that the seat beside her belonged to Matthew? Silence fell around the table as her family turned to watch her with poorly concealed anticipation. They were waiting for her to show that she was better but she could not do it. How could she ever recover from such a blow? And the expectation was too much.

"If you'll excuse me, I've a headache," Mary managed to say, rising abruptly and leaving the room with as much surety as she could muster.


End file.
